Leaving
by kumar LaVoixDuSud
Summary: Her dream was to leave to a big city. A big city was synonym to freedom for her. She had no hesitation to abandon her home, family, friends to achieve her desire. When the opportunity appeared, she didn't let it go.
1. Two girls

**Disclaimer:** I do not own The Inheritance Cycle. It belongs to Christopher Paolini.

**A/N :** Dear readers.

As this is my first attempt to write a story, I feel the need to dedicate it to all of them who are flying on the wings of fantasy. You guys are wonderful people, you make this world go round (especially in difficult times). Fantasy is the beginning of creation.

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**Two girls.**

By the banks of the river, on the yellowing grass, two girls were seated, laundry baskets, full of wet clothing, at their sides. They seemed to have finished the hard task and now they were enjoying the sunny morning.

One girl leaned on the other's shoulder, her red curls falling all along her back, waving in the summer breeze. She tenderly whispered something in the ear of her friend, which made the other giggle.

'I'd rather not', she answered. 'The water is still freezing. No wonder our hands turned purple, while washing'. Dark brown hair, tied back in a long ponytail, revealed a beautiful face, with two smart brown eyes. 'I would say the summer has yet to come, if it was not for this bright sunny light'.

'If you find this water cold, then what would you think, if you visited the waterfalls?' the red-haired asked playfully.

'Certainly not! No self-respecting person would go there, ever!'

'But the view is wonderful. Not to mention the adventure', said her friend, gathering her long red hair in a bun and pinning it on the top of her head.

'Pfft, adventure! Making for a big city, for the capital maybe… That's an adventure. Not strolling around a mountain', she said, making a face.

'Say whatever you like, I love this nature. It makes me feel free', the other girl smiled, revealing two dimples on her cheeks.

Long brown ponytail moving mischievously, eyes full of mockery, her friend asked.

'Speaking of freedom….. this man…. Are you seriously considering marrying him?'

'He is the only one who has asked for me. My family insist on that marriage', the other sighed.

'I would say, you should think again', a grimace momentarily changed the girl's beautiful face.

Her voice lowered, as if the wind would carry her whisper away, to be heard by wrong ears. 'He is inappropriate for you'.

'But my mother says…. I do not have any other option'.

The other girl turned to face her, dark brown eyes shimmering with anger, her voice full of uncontrollable emotion.

'No other option? You could leave!'

'Where to? What are you talking about?'

'To a big city. To the capital. Someplace where you would have other more options'.

The red-haired girl's face turned very serious.

'You would do that? Leave your home, your family? Your …dear friends?' In the depths of her eyes a great sorrow was beginning to stir.

'I would', the other answered with determination. 'One day, I will'.

The boldly spoken, causing pain, unemotional words, made her friend move slightly away from her side, coming closer to the water.

'He is a good man', she whispered.

'I don't like him. His eyes…always full of suspiciousness. His pockmarked reddish face… He reminds me of the pigs his father slaughters'. The offending words caused the protest of the other. The voices were gradually raised.

'He is decent'.

'He is short-sighted'.

'He is honest'.

'He is dominant'.

'He says he loves me. What other possible thing would I ask?'

'He is going to chain you to the back side of his father's butchery'.

The tiff stopped abruptly, causing a few minutes of silence. A passing cloud, shading the sun for a moment, caused a sudden burst of colder wind. The dark-eyed girl turned and cupped the other's cheek.

'Come with me. We can leave together'. Her friend gave her a grieved smile.

'I cannot do such a thing. I'm sorry'.

'Ismira!'

The red-haired girl jumped on her feet the same instant. Behind them, on the pathway leading to the river, a young man stood glaring, his two hands clenched in fists, his reddish face sweating. He hurried to the riverbank panting, as if he had been running all the way from the village.

'What are you doing here Ismira?'

'Laundry', the red-haired answered, indicating her basket, full of wet cotton and linen.

'And did you have to come this far away for your laundry?', the young man said, giving a hostile look to the other. 'Isn't there any other place, closer to the village?'

The other maid stood as well. She mockingly nodded.

'Sloan'.

'Selena'. They exchanged a mutually distasteful look.

'Come Ismira, I'll escort you to your home. Your mother is looking for you'.

The girl's eyes danced from the man to her friend.

'But we came together….'

'There is no problem', Selena's ironic tone, pierced the son of the butcher. 'Go with your fiancé, I'll find my way to the farm'. She turned her back on them, seriously busy throwing pebbles into the river.

Ismira shrugged apologetically lifting her basket to follow him.

Selena stayed for a bit longer, watching with dreamy eyes a flock of birds flying even more northerly for the summer.


	2. A couple

**Disclaimer:** I do not own The Inheritance Cycle. It belongs to Christopher Paolini.

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**A couple**

'Here, give this to me'. Now that they were alone, his voice took a more tender hue.

'It's ok, I can carry it to the village', the girl protested. He was going to be her husband in several months, but she didn't like being a burden to him.

'They are mostly wet and thus heavy. I don't want you to get tired'. The young man lifted the laundry basket from her hands. 'You are so precious to me'. He gave her a sideways glance, trying to make out her intentions towards him.

'Thank you Sloan', Ismira granted him a gentle smile, 'but I'm not as weak as you think. I can manage. I'm not made of sugar!'

'You are. To me', the man whispered. His pink face turned with embarrassment to, if possible, a darker shade of red. His light brown crinkled eyes sparkled for a moment with hidden desires.

They walked for long, without speaking to each other. Hot sun rays fell on the road, making the dust motes dance. Thin willows provided poor shade for the walkers.

'This girl, …Selena'.

'What about her?'.

'It's …. I know, she appears to be an acquaintance to you... but …. ' She looked him in the eye, waiting for his statement. It never came.

'She is not just an acquaintance, she is my friend', Ismira's back stiffened. 'My most dear friend', she said decisively.

For a while Sloan said nothing. The first village houses, were about to be seen.

'She lures you to do things…', he stubbornly returned to the subject. The girl beside him chuckled.

'Like what?' she demanded, her usually peaceful disposition giving place to a starting irritation.

'Go to the river ….. laundry, so far away…', he hesitated, but as she remained silent, he encouraged himself to go on in a bolder way. 'The strolling around the mountain, the visits to the falls…. . Soon, we will live together. You will be a married woman. What will people say ...'. He never finished. She grabbed her basket from his hands and as they had already reached her doorstep, she greeted him with cold eyes.

'Thank you Sloan. For carrying my basket'. He remained frozen staring at her closed door.

'…Afraid I might lose you up there', he whispered. She never heard him.


	3. Brother, sister

**Disclaimer:** I do not own The Inheritance Cycle. It belongs to Christopher Paolini.

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**Brother, sister.**

His dreamy eyes had since long ceased to read. The letters, as if jumping up and down the paper, had already started to form in his mind new sentences. He was sitting by the fireplace, the open letter on his lap. Even though he always considered himself a practical man, the last half hour he had become lost to the reality of this world, drowned in thoughts.

That's why he didn't notice when she appeared in the kitchen door, carrying her heavy basket. The girl hurried inside leaving the half wet clothing to the threshold to dry them later and busied herself with placing spoons and bowls on the table.

Finally the man turned his eyes on her and nodded.

'Sister. Where have you been all morning?'. His voice was still coloured with a dreamy tone.

She had prepared herself for a long time to excuse her delay and now she was taking over a self-defense posture.

'I was doing the laundry, brother. Someone has to do it', she said, irritated.

'And left all your other duties undone. I had to cook myself or else there would be nothing for us to eat'. He indicated a small pan with vegetables, that simmered over the fire.

His voice was calm. He was not scolding her. She was many years younger than him, and she had been raised without a mother. In the beginning, when their father died, he had to take care of her but later she had taken some responsibilities to herself so as to lighten his burden. The brother stood, putting the letter at the corner of the table.

'Come here sister'. She shyly approached and he tenderly cupped her cheek. 'I know you are trying to do your best, as am I. But I have to take care of the whole farm alone. We can only make it together, and with cooperation'.

She smiled at him and nodded. And it was then that her eye caught sight of the letter.

'Garrow! You have received a letter! Where from? Who is the sender? Let me see it!', she reached for the corner of the table. In an instant she was excited.

The brother passed his hand tenderly over the letter, his lips half twisting upwards.

'I'm sorry sister. It's kind of … private'. And with these words, he folded it and tucked it in his pocket.

Selena scowled. And she remained surly and silent during the meal. But neither did he, despite his habit, try to start a talk on something.

Later, while she was doing the dishes, she would glance at him over her shoulder. He had once more opened the letter and was reading it.

When she had finished her job, she left the kitchen allowing him to create with his imagination new words as a reply. Words combined with his heart and mind.


	4. The stranger

**Disclaimer: **I do not own The Inheritance Cycle. It belongs to Christopher Paolini.

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**The stranger.**

Early in the afternoon she made her way to the village, her mind always on the letter in her brother's hands. The heat, dust and chirping crickets were only disturbed by an occasional birdcall. She didn't even notice when she found herself on the back side of Morn's tavern. She lightstepped in the kitchen. No sight of Morn. A kettle was boiling on the fire. Tara, his wife, wasn't there either. The older woman befriended her. She even gave her sometimes one or two errands to do. If there had been a messenger, Tara would know.

Selena crossed the kitchen to take a glimpse of the main hall. A voice from behind startled her.

'What are you doing here girl?'. Tara rushed inside, in her hands an urn full of fresh water from the well. She hurried to the fireplace to empty it into the kettle. Her trembling hands caused an amount of it to spill over onto the fire, making the embers sizzle.

'Hello Tara, I wonder…. Would you have an errand for me?'. Selena asked, her eyes surveying the outer hall. There was only one man occupying one of the center tables. By the first look she had never seen him before. A stranger.

'Not now. We have a very important customer'.

Selena turned towards her older friend. Never had she seen her so nervous.

'I wanted to ask you something else too'.

'Tell me quickly. I have tasks to attend to'. Tara busied herself filling a carafe with ale.

'My brother received a letter today. Has there been a messenger in the village?'. She nodded towards the stranger. 'Is he the messenger?'

Tara frowned.

'I know nothing about letters and messengers. If your brother received one, it was certainly not today'.

Selena wrinkled her brow. Her dark eyes turned even darker. Had Garrow been keeping a letter from her? For how long?

'Then, who is this man, if not the messenger?'

The older woman shrugged.

'A courtier, or something like that. I've prepared him a meal but he has paid more attention to drinking than eating. He asked for wine but we could not provide. Fortunately for us, he has not protested. You can never know with those noblemen'. Tara sighed and cleaned her hands on her starched white apron, worn for the special occasion. 'Oh, well! This ale, after all, has been the best one for long'.

Selena stole another glance at the man. From the inside of the kitchen door she could only make out his back. Long raven hair, spread on broad shoulders. The stranger had left his cloak on the nearby chair. Short cut sleeves of his shirt and vest revealed muscular arms.

And it was then that she noticed the red glint. On his lap there was a long and broad sword, resting in its wine red sheath. The gold pommel was of teardrop shape, with the sides cut away to reveal a ruby, the size of a small egg. Its hilt was wrapped in silver wire. From his right boot, there protruded the hilt of a dagger.

Selena held her breath.

'Why is he here? He looks like a man of authority. And how come, a nobleman travelling alone?'

'King's business. And he is not travelling alone. His two companions are somewhere in the village. That's why it's better for you not to stroll around. Go back home'.

Selena started leaving, but for a moment she turned back to the other woman.

'I wonder…. will he stay for long?' It was as if she was asking herself, in a daydream.

'He is going to spend the night in the village. At Bartram's widow I think. After all, the late blacksmith's house is the best of all. Morn is now making the arrangements. I heard he is leaving tomorrow'.

'More ale!', a hoarse, husky voice demanded. In an instant, Selena took hold of the carafe.

'Let me serve him'. Tara grabbed it from her hands.

'You better not! You have no business here. Go back to your brother's'.

'Cupbearer!' the nobleman shouted angrily, banging his fist on the table.

He half turned, revealing pale skin on a rather handsome face. Fiery eyes ran over her for an instant, before they stared forcefully at the taverner's wife. His hand instinctively made for the hilt of his sword. The red ruby glimmered strangely in the dim light.

'Here it comes, my Lord!' Tara hurried through the hall to serve him, leaving the full carafe on his table.


	5. The letter

**Disclaimer: **I do not own The Inheritance Cycle. It belongs to Christopher Paolini.

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**The letter.**

She found her brother sitting where she had left him, same letter in his hands. Had he spent all the afternoon in here? She nodded at him and made for her room.

'Selena!'

His voice startled her. She half looked at him, over her shoulder.

'Mmm?'

'Remember when we lived in Ceunon?'

Selena's attention was captured in an instant.

Their father, Cadoc, used to work in that city. When he lost all his property to a series of unwise investments, they had to move to the interior and settle down in this deserted farm. She was a tiny little child at that time but she remembered very well the big city, the spacious roads, the busy markets and the harbour. She was still moved by the memory of the sea, the gulls' cries.

'How could I possibly forget it!'.

'There was a lass back there ….her home, next to our door', Garrow said after a short while, his eyes, full of nostalgia.

'Oh, yes, I remember her. A tall, skinny girl, who lived with her aged aunt … Marion … or something'.

'Marian'.

Garrow stayed silent for the longest while, his hands folding and unfolding the letter absentmindedly. Selena's patience ran out.

'Well?'

'When Horst Ostrecsson, blacksmith's apprentice traveled there, I had asked him to carry a letter for her. Much later, she answered to me'.

Selena nodded with understanding. So, the letter was an old one.

'And?'.

'We kept this on …'

Garrow stood in front of her and held both her shoulders. The folded letter, Marian's letter, scratched her cheek lightly.

'Her aunt died recently. I thought ... I wanted to ask her ... to come and stay with me. To be my wife'. He tightened his hold. 'As soon as you get married, I will be alone'.

Selena narrowed her eyes.

'Brother, I do not intend to get married!'

'For now, yes, but later on ….'. Selena escaped his hold.

'I have a better idea. Why don't we go, to stay with her? After all, Ceunon is a big city...'

Garrow shook his head in refusal.

'We've been through this again. Farmer, is the only thing I know how to do. This is my home. My land. I'll never abandon it'.

She looked at him for a while.

'Do you wish me to marry so as not to be around? Am I a burden to you?'.

Garrow stretched his hands.

'You misunderstand me. I love you sister but this is the natural course of the events'.

Selena nodded.

'Do as you wish brother. This is your life'.

She left the kitchen for her room.

'…As this is _my_ life …', she whispered.


	6. The leaving

**Disclaimer:** I do not own The Inheritance Cycle. It belongs to Christopher Paolini.

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**The leaving.**

She didn't sleep that night. As the hours passed, she was thinking and thinking all over again. She couldn't find an alternative. In the small hours, she took hold of a sack and stuffed a few necessary things inside. It was pre dawn when she jumped through her window, and hurried to the village entrance. The nobleman and his men, were to leave in the morning, Tara had said.

She waited and waited, hidden behind a bush. Although her heart was speeding, she must have dozed for a while. When she next looked down the road, she saw the man's back. He had already passed her by. How could she have missed the horses? She jumped up and rushing after him, shouted.

'My Lord!'

The man turned abruptly and stopped, his left hand, grabbing decisively the hilt of his sword. Seeing her, he lifted an eyebrow.

'What need of me could the Northern Flower possibly have?'

Her breath cut short. He was tall, well-built, regal. He appeared to be in his late thirties. An impressive man. Selena approached him up to a safe distance and curtsied slightly.

'An urgent need to leave, my Lord'.

'Leave? Where to?'.

'A big city, … any city'.

His sharp eye appraised her, from the top to the hem.

'I thought ... perhaps, one of your escorts … could take me on his horse', Selena dared.

'They've both departed, since last night'.

Was the sleepless night, or his husky voice, that caused her dizziness?

'Could you … may be … if you please, my Lord …'.

The man craned his head.

'I could possibly take you with me', he said, his fiery, dark eyes piercing her.

She felt his gaze in the core of her being. As if bewitched, she came closer.

'Oh! Thank you Sire! I'll not be a trouble. Just a tiny place on your horse back, it will be enough'. The man chuckled.

'I'm not traveling on horse back'.

A powerful beat of wings was heard. An enormous shade of red flew above her. The giant beast, all power and strength, landed with a loud thump, its blood-red scales glittering and shimmering under the first ray of the sun. Burying its claws into the ground, it folded its wings and pinned a brilliant crimson eye on her.

Selena was speechless. Her blood froze in her veins.

_Oh! Gods above! He is one of ... them!_

The Rider turned his back on her and standing in front of his dragon, with an affectionate movement scratched its snout, causing first a soft throaty growl and then a humming.

'Uru'baen. That's our destination'.

Was he talking to her, or to the beast? As he turned back to her, Selena gasped.

'Well, girl! Will you come? Or are you afraid of my…mount? '.

He stretched his gloved hand, inviting her, a half crooked smile on his face, daring her to follow him.

Selena sighed. She stretched her body and then let her demeanor relax a bit. She was not afraid, she told herself. This was the long-awaited opportunity for her, to leave the unbearable farm life, to escape living among narrow-minded peasants, who could hardly understand her. She wouldn't let it go just like that. It was now or never.

She tightened her grip on her meager belongings, and made the first step to her future.

**The End. Or was it the Beginning?**

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**A/N:** Are you Selena's fan? Soon I will post a new story with the title : 'The Warrior and The Dragon'. The second chapter will be about her. See you then!

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**A/N :** This was my first attempt to write something in English which is not about nucleons (did I really do this?) So, I would appreciate your opinion. Would you please post a review for me?


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